It was dark, the narrow scalpel of the moonlight was merciless when it cut through the shadows of trees, wounding the forest with a glow that spread across the terra. A steady drumming rushed in with a consistency of pitter-patters, melting into the pavement before it could wet the earth completely. Of course, it wasn't anything alarming, the moneylender has done this plenty of times, in all sorts of locations, with variants of weathers, a little rain was nothing. He took his time as he made down the silver pathway the celestials built for him, each step light but solid. The rain became a background static as the man finally reached his destination. A half-built structure beside a fallen townhouse. Very out of place amidst the cottagecore aesthetic that surrounded.
"A musician." The moneylender stated.
"Hardly." The man laughed.
"That would be me. You must be the moneylender sir. I've been waiting for you. It's pouring outside, I've never liked the rain. Here, let's talk in doors." The man rushed. He spoke as if there was a radio on his tongue and was running at 2x speed.
The moneylender followed the man into the building. It was mostly empty, but with a sofa and makeshift bed cramped in the corner, and a vintage piano sitting alone in the middle of the ambiance.
The following challenges were completed during the writing exercise:
Begin Start typing to begin
Words Reach 50 words
Event It pours
Letter Use the letter O
Words Reach 100 words
Character A slow moneylender
Character A zealous building labourer
Words Reach 200 words
Prop Include a piano
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